


In the Shadow of the Mountain

by Babble



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Dark Elves, Drabble Collection, Drama, Gen, Humor, Morrowind, Shorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-01 07:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babble/pseuds/Babble
Summary: A collection of drabbles and short fiction. Set during the events of Morrowind, following an unknowing Nerevarine through her adventures on Vvardenfell. Loosely connected chapters, no overarching story.





	1. Awakening

Nadene Othren entered the Mage's Guild hall cautiously, ready at any moment for an angry atronach to throw her out for being so obviously inept in every area of magic. Instead, she found a tall Dunmer woman in opulent robes blocking the hallway.

“Have you come to join the Mage's Guild?” The woman asked, eyeing Nadene suspiciously. Though they were both Dark Elves, Nadene knew that all the Dunmer of Vvardenfell considered her an outlander. She had been hoping the Guild to be different.

“Yes,” Nadene stammered. “I know a couple spells already, but I'm not very good.”  _Good thinking, s'wit. Let her know how terrible you are, that'll improve your chances._

“Hmm.” The woman's eyes narrowed. “Perhaps. My name is Ranis Athrys, and I'm the Guild Steward of this branch. I must know: have you ever had any association with House Telvanni, or any member of said House?”

“No. I just arrived in Vvardenfell three days ago. Why, do you have a problem with them?”

“Problem?” Ranis' hands tightened into fists at her sides. “Telvanni is nothing more than a pack of deceitful and murderous nix hounds. You would do well to kill any of their scum you come across.”

Nadene nodded. “Right.”  _So, not xenophobic, just crazy._  “I can join the Mage's Guild, then?”

“I can admit you as an associate. That is the lowest rank. You will have to show an improved aptitude with magic if you hope to advance in the Guild.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” Nadene smiled. Maybe things are looking up. “I'm sure I'll get better with practice. So when's my first lesson?”

“I do not provide training to ranks lower than Conjurer.” Ranis gestured down the hallway to a large room where other mages were at work. “Ajira can provide duties to you, picking flowers to begin with. I hope you brought gold, if you hope to learn any spells.”

“What?” Nadene asked, mouth agape. “I have to pay to learn magic here? What about the spirit of scholarly cooperation?”

For the first time since Nadene had met her, Ranis smiled. “The Mage's Guild is a carefully run organization, not a charity for street mages. It's possible that if you pick enough flowers, Ajira might take pity on you. I certainly never will.”

_Terrific. And I thought magic was supposed to be fun._


	2. Baby Steps

Marayn Dren shook his head as Nadene once again failed to levitate. He was beginning to regret training her right outside the Balmora Mage's Guild, where anyone could walk by and gawk.

“It's really quite easy,” He drawled. “The Telvanni levitate as a matter of fact.”

Nadene tried once more. A minute later Marayn was looking up at her crouched on the roof.

“I've done it.” She grinned.

“Now just levitate down.” Marayn left Nadene where she was, ignoring her cries for a ladder. There was research to be done, and no time for incompetent outlander mages.


	3. Family Reunion

Nadene panted as she ran down the road, her enemy close behind. She could hear the clacking of its long pincers getting louder. This Turdas had begun like any other; Nadene had already completed her Mage's Guild duties for the week, and the taverns were practically empty until Fredas evening. So she had decided to go on a walk.

Her foot hit a rock and she collapsed, and the monster rushed forward. Nadene gasped and scrambled backward, fumbling for the dagger on her belt.

The beast attacked, knocking aside the dagger easily with its pincers. Nadene screamed and thrust her hands forward, acting on instinct. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to face the end. Instead, the creature squealed in pain. A blue spectre had appeared, and stepped on the mudcrab, killing it with ease.

“Die, ghost!” Nadene lunged, and her dagger went through the spectre. The ghost blinked and crossed its arms.

“I'm your ancestor spirit, foolish  _s'wit.”_ It said. “Summoned to aid you in battle.”

“Oh.” They both stared at the dead mudcrab, which now appeared quite small. “Normally, I can take care of these ones.”

“I _can not_ believe we are related.”

 


	4. Solstheim Nights

The storm atronach dissipated with a hiss, its void salts showering the rocky ground. Nadene collected the valuable salts before they could blow away, a task made difficult by the glacial temperatures. Her fingers hadn't stopped shivering since she'd arrived on the Divines-forsaken island of Solstheim. _Why would anyone choose to live here?_ , Nadene had thought, before remembering she'd spent the last three months adventuring through the desolate wastes and boggy wetlands of Vvardenfell. She hurried to the gleam of moonlight that marked the entrance to the cave, eager to return to Raven Rock and sleep in a proper bed.

 


	5. The Dawn Rises in Vivec City

Her chitin helmet was a shoddy piece of armor, taken from an even shoddier bandit, so Nadene didn't keep a close eye on it while she washed her hair in the canalworks of the St. Delyn Canton.

That is, until it began to whimper softly. Nadene almost jumped, and then glanced nervously at the other patrons of the canalworks. _Did someone curse my helmet while I was having a wash?_ She wasn't the best mage in Vvardefell, but even to her a helmet-crying curse seemed rather ridiculous.

Nadene swallowed and made herself look into the helmet, prepared to be blown away by a fireball. Instead, she gasped. Large eyes as crimson as her own were blinking awake. _A baby. Someone put a Dunmer baby in my helmet._

“Nine Divines,” she whispered, horrified. “What in Oblivion am I going to do with a baby?”

To give it to the Tribunal Temple would be condemning it to a lifetime of brainwashing and falsehoods, she knew. The infant wriggled around, rocking the helmet back and forth. _Maybe the Imperial Cult._ They seemed well-intentioned enough, if a bit stiff. Nadene sighed, carefully cradled the helmet in her arms, and made for the stairs.

 

 


End file.
